The Warmest Room

In the certain palace
a peasant kneels and explains
that the regent’s callous
tithing is putting undue strain

on local artists. Work cannot
begin on the “hundred
tiny thrones” project while the garrets
remain so under-funded.

The art-in-the-asylum scheme
has been very badly hit:
cut backs mean that next month’s theme
is ‘what can we draw with our own shit?’

The king thinks the tiny thrones
will highlight his common-man sympathies;
the artists hope the work will show
his wide-spread bureaucratic tyranny.